Merry and Bright
by ilysia
Summary: What with Jadis' conquering Narnia, Father Christmas' banishment, an unwelcome journey, and some decidedly vindictive humor, this Christmas looks to be merry and bright... or then again, perhaps not.


_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, alas!  
**Author's Note:** Just a decidedly odd bit of story for the season. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!_

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**Merry and Bright  
_Then Again, Perhaps Not _**

"My lord?"

A stray finger of wind worried at a small pile of snow, whirling it through the frigid air and strewing it over a pair of well-worn leather boots. The figure in the boots turned slightly in acknowledgement of the title, but said not a word in response to the query. A gust of wind swept up from the south, flurrying snow onto the frozen ground. Silence reigned supreme.

"It has been done."

"My lord?"

"She has finally done it, Vaïnö. She has banished me from Narnia."

Vaïnö blinked once, twice, allowing this distressing- but not entirely unexpected- news to register. It was an event which had been spoken of since the destruction of the Tree of Protection and the murder of Queen Swanwhite, yet one which Vaïnö knew his lord would never tolerate gently. "The Princess of Charn has accepted, then, the weight of the Prophecy?"

At the words _Princess of Charn_, Father Christmas turned abruptly, his eyes blazing, and snarled, "She is no Princess of Charn, much less its Empress! She forfeited the rights to those titles when she blasphemed the Creator and desecrated the last hallowed places in that dying world. Now," he continued, the rage on his face fading into regret, "she will seek to do the same to this world. And I can do nothing."

Vaïnö watched as his lord and friend turned away from him again and sighed, knowing what it cost him to see and yet be unable to act against Jadis' depravities. "You know the Law, my lord," he said gently, moving forward to stand at Father Christmas' side. "And you know that you became bound by it the moment you entered this world."

There was a brief pause during which Father Christmas glowered at the windblown snow, and then Vaïnö continued. "Besides, my lord, there is the Prophecy, and if Jadis has indeed taken measures to prevent your entrance into Narnia, then at least we can take comfort in the fact that she has, whether she knows it or not, set that in motion. Your banishment may prove to be nothing more nor less than the will of the Emperor."

"I am not proposing to go against the Emperor's will, Vaïnö," Father Christmas grumbled, shooting the Reindeer an agitated, but slightly chastened, glare. "You know that better than any other."

"Quite, my lord," Vaïnö replied pertly, inwardly congratulating himself. No other could talk Father Christmas out of a rage so quickly, but then again, no other had known him for as long as Vaïnö had.

Silence took hold once more, save for the constant whisper and bluster and bite of the icy wind. Vaïnö waited, counting silently to himself, until…

"I quite lost myself, did I not?"

"Rather, my lord."

"It has, I believe, been some time since I was so infuriated."

"Pe'i'a, my lord."

"Really?" Father Christmas said, interest evident in his voice.

"The Sun-Emperor had decided to make you a minor deity, and accordingly built an altar in your honor. If I recall correctly, he was attempting to sacrifice his youngest child to you when we intervened, my lord."

"Ah, yes- Pe'i'a was a strange world. I remember the Sun-Emperor. Distasteful man. I cannot say that I was unduly distressed when his line failed."

Vaïnö allowed himself a quiet laugh before adding, "Quite so, my lord."

Another great gust of wind sent snow spiraling around them. "I thank you, old friend," Father Christmas said gently, briefly laying one rough hand on the Reindeer's shoulder. "At times my sight is faulty, and on such occasions your own remarkable vision is most necessary and appreciated."

"It is ever at your service, my lord."

Father Christmas nodded once in acknowledgement before turning smartly on his heels and stalking back towards the palace that was his home and workshop. Startled, Vaïnö broke into a trot to catch him.

"Stop!" Father Christmas cried without looking back.

Vaïnö stopped.

Father Christmas did not.

"My lord?" Vaïnö called, puzzled. "May I ask...?"

"You have a task to do, old friend," Father Christmas tossed over his shoulder. "One that will take quite some time, so I suggest you start immediately."

Vaïnö had an unpleasant suspicion about this 'task' and it made his voice hesitant. "My- my lord?"

"I need fireflowers, Vaïnö."

The Reindeer winced. "Those grow on the Sun, my lord." He _hated_ visiting the Sun.

"A fact of which I am well aware, Vaïnö," -Father Christmas stopped and turned, his face serious- "and also the reason for which I suggested that you begin immediately, if not sooner."

"And what will you be doing, my lord?" Vaïnö couldn't help himself from asking, despite the question's impoliteness.

"I have a sword to forge, and arrows to fletch, and a horn to carve, Vaïnö." Vaïnö could hear the laughter in his voice. "I do not intend to spend my banishment in sloth."

"Indeed, my lord."

Inwardly, he sighed. The journey to the Sun was long and arduous even for one who wasn't suited better to frozen tundra and frigid nights. There would be the sunbirds to deal with who, while intelligent and unoffending enough, were entirely too fond of singing for Vaïnö's taste. And there would be the fireflowers to deal with; they, while pretty and useful in and of themselves, were entirely too hot, too bright, and too showy to be carried with any comfort or secrecy over any great distance, particularly by a Reindeer.

Vaïnö sighed again. His lord was great, and a good friend, but it was times such as this that made him wish he's stayed- safely and unexceptionally- in his own dark and frigid sphere. At least there he hadn't been the subject of Father Christmas' decidedly strange sense of humor.

"Oh, and, Vaïnö?"

Vaïnö looked up hopefully, only to see Father Christmas' wickedly amused smile. His heart sank, if possible, even farther. "My lord?"

"Merry Christmas."


End file.
